What I read in July

 

Here's what I read in July. Nine books, not counting two that I read for publicity purposes.

Of the nine, there were no 5 star reads. But five of them were 4 stars, three were 3 stars, and one got 2 stars. Another not super great, but not horrible, month.

Six of them were review copies. Two were audio. One was print. The longest book was
336 pages. The shortest was 99 pages.

A total of 1892 pages read. (I read a lot of a short books, which makes the fact that I only read 9 a bit funny to me)

The Hill in the Dark Grove by Liam Higginson

"Hindsight was just a multiplier of regrets."

Creepy Welsh folklore for the win — and one of my most anticipated reads of the year.

The novel centers on Carwyn, the last in a long line of Welsh sheep farmers, and his wife Rhian as they struggle through a brutal winter. After rescuing two lost trespassers on his land, Carwyn discovers a partially buried stone head — the hint of a much larger set of ruins hidden beneath a mound at the far edge of his property. As he abandons his daily routine with the sheep to dig deeper, his obsession grows, and Rhian becomes increasingly afraid she’s losing her husband to something she may not be able to pull him back from.

If you've been following my reviews, you'll know I’ve been in a bit of a reading slump, where the books have been fine but forgettable, and Higginson’s novel was the breath of cold, clean air that I so desperately wanted. I needed something to clear the cobwebs, and this absolutely did the trick.

It's slow‑burn folklore done right... atmospheric, tender (until it isn't), and deeply unsettling. It layers the tension carefully, shifting POVs at just the right moment, and building a creeping sense of dread that settles in your bones. At its core, it’s about a husband and wife bound so tightly that the thought of leaving is almost unimaginable.

"They were not made for each other as much as they were made of each other."

Mule Boy by Andrew Krivak

I read The Bear five years ago and it pierced my heart. Naturally, I was anxious to see what this book would do.

I tried to snag a copy on netgalley before it released but my request was left on hold, so I ended up buying it in print and it was kind of lingering in my TBR stacks so when I saw it on Chirp for cheap, I bought it there, too, and I'm glad I did because I listened to it much sooner than I ever would have gotten around to reading it.

And I love how he starts every chapter with "And".

And I love that it's set painfully close to my backyard - Scranton, Wilke-Barre, Hazleton - I know those places. I've been to those places, I've bought books from the Barnes and Nobles in those places, though obviously not in Ondro's timeline.

And Ondro, he's the sole survivor of a horrific mine collapse in 1929. A young kid who quickly moved up the ranks to Mule Boy, working alongside the miners, loading up carts and dragging them away with Wicked, a mule who only ever listened to one other miner and it was because he, like Ondro, spoke Slovak to it.

Trapped for days with dead and dying men, Ondro carries the memories of thier last moments with him for the rest of his life - through his marriage to one of the dead miner's daughters, through his refusal to serve in the war because he was done with dead bodies, all the way through his older years, when the sons and daughters of the other miners seek him out to hear the stories of their fathers who died, and to hear their final words.

Krivak's writing reminds me of Denis Johnson's Train Dreams and Paul Harding's Tinkers. This is a story that begs to be read. It's an exercise in pain and isolation and punishment and guilt and...

and...

and...

Plant Lady by Monyoung Kang

If you cross The Eyes Are the Best Part with Dexter and Eat the Ones You Love, you’ll get Plant Lady. That’s the ecosystem this book grows in — a revenge fantasy with potting soil under its nails and a woman who knows plants can solve problems people can’t, using her shop and her botanical expertise to help other women escape violent partners.

Men, consider this your horticultural PSA: if you hit her, belittle her, or try to break her down, she might just know a philodendron that can take care of the cleanup.

Plant Lady balances the cuteness of a cozy mystery with the darkness of a horror novel, tossing in some closed‑door gore for good measure. It’s definitely more “tell” than “show,” with Kang playing magician — giving you the setup, then leaving you to infer what happened to the bodies. The timeline occasionally bends backward to fill in gaps, and while it tripped me up a few times, the pieces eventually click.

Not the best book I’ve read this year, not the worst. If you’re into weird‑girl revenge stories, this one will give you a little thrill.

Of Cattle and Men by Ana Paula Maia

I bought Of Cattle and Men back when it blew up on Bookstagram, but I let it sit on my shelf for years. I didn’t want the hype to get in my head. So why now? Because I have an advanced copy of Ana Paula Maia’s next book, Bury Your Dead, coming in August — the one that follows Edgar after he leaves the slaughterhouse — and it felt like the right moment to finally step into the blood and smoke of this one.

As a fan of Tender Is the Flesh and I Who Have Never Known Men, I knew I’d love this book, but I also knew it would hurt. I hate reading about animal death and abuse. But Maia handles her characters and the cows with a strange, solemn grace. Edgar is gentle in his brutality, a repentant murderer who carries his shame like a second skin. Before each killing blow, he prays over the animals, hoping God will tend to their souls in a way he knows his own never will. If they have to die, he wants to be the one to do it, because he knows he’ll do it right.

But his mind-numbing routine fractures when the cows begin acting strangely — miscarrying, drowning themselves, even hurling their bodies off cliffs. Edgar and his crew of slaughterhouse misfits can’t make sense of it. Is it the polluted river? An unseen predator? Or something deeper than even he can come to terms with?

If this book doesn’t put you off meat for a few days, nothing will. And if it doesn’t haunt you a little, you might already be working inside the slaughterhouse.

Bury Your Dead by Ana Paula Maia

Just two road crew dudes picking up dead animals from the side of the road, who keep stumbling across dead bodies in the woods. In between dropping the roadkill off at the grinder, they make it their mission to give the corpses they find a good send-off, but nothing is ever easy and this seemingly simple task ends up becoming quite the journey.

Rot, decay, and decomposing flesh has nothing on these two.

Bury Your Dead is a slow, plodding, and also strangely relaxing read, and I mean that in the best way. It's super chill and I adore Edgar and Tomas, they have the best laid back 'let's just get through the day without getting killed' energy.

I assumed this was a sequel to Of Cattle of Men since it's a continuation of Edgar's storyline, but when I look at goodreads, this appears to be the first book in a triology that has yet to be translated. Can't wait to get to the others... Ana Paula Maia's got my attention now.

The Unheld by Luke Larkin

Western horror is my kryptonite. I see it, I grab it, I devour it. So when I picked up The Unheld, I was ready for dust, dread, and danger.

The beginning delivered. Webber and his daughter Charlie are living off the land, fending for themselves in the woods on the outskirts of town — self‑isolated, relying on each other for survival — until the woods start spitting out disfigured nightmare creatures. You’d think losing their main source of food would be the problem, but that ends up being the least of their worries. Because with these strange animals comes something much larger and much scarier, and it seems to be stalking their cabin. Webber manages to catch it and chain it up in his shed, even turning it into a money‑maker by selling tickets to townspeople who want to see the thing up close. But it breaks loose and drags Webber away.

The setup was killer. I was convinced I was holding a five‑star book.

And then… the vibes shifted. Hard. What began as western horror slowly morphed into historical weird fiction and started feeling like a mashup of Stranger Things and Pan’s Labyrinth. I held on, but I wasn’t fully sold. And when the ending went a little Wizard of Oz on me, I was out.

I finished it, but not happily. More like stubbornly.

If you’re into genre chaos, this might thrill you. I just wanted the western horror I was promised, not a surreal carnival of plot detours.

Small Town Horror by Ronald Malfi

There was a bundle deal on Malfi’s audiobooks over at Chirp, and I had just finished The Hive, which wasn’t horrible, but definitely would’ve benefited from a 200‑page chop LOL.

Since I found The Hive enjoyable enough, I figured I’d take the risk, and this was the first audiobook I chose from the bundle.

For starters, the narrator was not doing this book any favors. I really didn’t care for his voice or delivery, and I had to work hard not to let that influence how I felt about the story itself.

Small Town Horror is basically a giant billboard for why you should never go home again. Andrew is a NYC lawyer who escaped his hometown years ago but gets pulled back when a childhood friend calls in a panic. He reluctantly agrees to return — lying to his pregnant wife about where he’s going, lying to his old friends about his relationship status — and once he arrives, the old gang reunites: the single mom who owns a bar, the cop following in his father’s footsteps, the druggie trying to clean up, and the one under suspicion for his wife’s recent disappearance. This ragtag group also shares a dark secret from twenty years ago, and since they’re all back together on the anniversary of the incident, a lot of their time is spent rehashing the past and side‑eyeing each other.

I was pretty proud of myself for thinking I had things figured out early on, but then it all got so complicated. Malfi pulls twist after twist after twist, and eventually I gave up trying to track who was setting up who or how their old secret tied into everything. Kudos to Malfi for keeping my head spinning and proving just how off‑base I was.

Even though it kept me on my toes, I wasn’t totally in love with the storyline, and by the end it felt like it had a little too much going on for its own good.

I’m landing squarely in the middle on this one. And I’ve still got two more audiobooks from that bundle to go. Here’s hoping one of them finally blows my socks off, because between this and The Hive, I’m not super impressed yet.

A Plagued Sea by Kim Bo-Young

Oh man. This started out so strong — eerie atmosphere, weird body horror, pandemic panic, seriously... all the right ingredients — and then the back half of the book just… unravels. It swerved from cosmic dread into full blown absurdity so fast I had to stop and reacclimate myself.

The setup is fantastic. A woman and her niece arrive at a quaint coastal town on the worst possible day, just as an underground volcanic eruption releases something into the air that begins transforming the residents. Hair falls out, skin erupts in sores, jaws warp under the pressure of newly sprouted teeth — and in the worst cases, their bodies morphing into increasingly grotesque, fish‑adjacent forms.

Our protagonist becomes an outcast twice over: trapped as a tourist and immune to whatever’s infecting the locals. She’s drafted into quarantine enforcement, ushering the sick back indoors when they try to flee. And then one routine visit ends in a killing, and the story takes a turn so bizarre it derails the momentum the book worked so hard to build.

If you’re into books like Wife Shaped Bodies, Reef Mind, or The Unfamiliar Garden, there’s a lot here to enjoy. And knowing now how heavily this draws from Lovecraft’s The Shadow Over Innsmouth, which I haven't read by the way, I think I get the intention but, for me, the execution doesn’t quite stick the landing.

Bloodbound by Anthony Lee Herd

Have you ever finished a classic and thought, waaaait… why didn’t we spend more time with THAT character? To many people, Quincey Morris (the Texas cowboy who helps destroy Dracula) has felt like one of literature’s underused heroes. And Anthony Lee Head heard the call loud and clear!

Bloodbound gives Quincey the spotlight he deserved all along. Head takes us through his childhood, showing us how he developed his grit and moral compass, how he ended up being one of Lucy’s suitors, and walks us down the path that leads him into Van Helsing’s circle... and ultimately... the hunt for Dracula. It’s a behind‑the‑scenes expansion that feels both fresh and faithful, adding depth without disturbing the bones of Stoker’s original.

Retellings can go sideways fast, especially when they mess too much with a beloved story. But shifting the lens to Quincey doesn’t distort Dracula. It actually enriches it. Sure, the vibe is different, but it's firmly still anchored in the world Stoker built. It's creative as hell and a lot of fun, too.

If this wasn’t already on your radar, consider it officially added. And honestly? You don’t need to remember every detail of Dracula to enjoy this. I had forgotten more than half of it and I'm ashamed to admit that I barely remembered Quincey until I looked him up. Now... I’m itching to reread the original with this new perspective still buzzing in my head.

As a sidenote: if you like these kind of retellings, check out Julia by Sandra Newman, which takes the story of 1984 and tells it through the eyes of... well... Julia, the original main character's girlfriend, basically shoving Winston into the background.